After a year that had seen their fortunes miraculously transformed, the Kingston family felt an overwhelming desire to celebrate Michael's seventh birthday in a truly memorable fashion. While a grand party at their Upper West Side home was initially considered, Michael had a far more adventurous idea: a family trip from the bustling east coast to the sun-drenched shores of the west coast.
The decision was made with joyful anticipation. John secured a private cabin on a luxurious train service making the transcontinental journey. In the 1890s, train travel was the epitome of long-distance luxury, and services like the Overland Limited offered an experience of unparalleled comfort and efficiency, traversing the vast American landscape in a matter of days, a journey that once took months by wagon. Their private cabin was a haven of plush velvet seats that converted into comfortable sleeping berths, complete with polished wood finishes and attentive stewards catering to their every need. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the tracks became a soothing soundtrack to their adventure as they journeyed through changing landscapes, from the snowy plains to the majestic mountains. The dining car was an experience in itself, offering gourmet meals served on fine china, a far cry from the more frugal meals of the recent past. They spent their days gazing out at the panoramic views unfolding outside their windows, playing cards, and reading stories, the vastness of the country a constant source of wonder.
Their first major stop on the west coast was San Francisco, a vibrant and cosmopolitan city even in the 1890s. The air was crisp with the scent of the Pacific, and the city, built on rolling hills, offered stunning views of the bay. They visited the famous Golden Gate Park, a sprawling urban oasis even then, where they were delighted to see the herd of bison that had made the park their home since the decade's beginning. A trip to Lands End offered breathtaking vistas of the dramatic cliffs plunging into the swirling ocean, and they explored the fascinating ruins of the Sutro Baths, the grand indoor swimming facility built earlier in the decade by the visionary Adolph Sutro. They rode the iconic cable cars, marveling at their unique mechanism as they climbed the steep hills, and spent time exploring the bustling wharves along the Embarcadero, filled with the sights and sounds of international trade. The family enjoyed delicious seafood meals and strolled through the lively streets, soaking in the unique atmosphere of the burgeoning Californian metropolis.
From San Francisco, their journey continued south to Los Angeles, a city still finding its identity in the 1890s, a fascinating blend of its rancho past and the burgeoning urban center it was destined to become. Unlike the established infrastructure of the east coast cities, Los Angeles in this era had many unpaved roads where horse-drawn carts were still a common sight, the automobile still a novelty for the wealthy. However, the city was already experiencing rapid growth, its population is over 90,000, almost doubling between 1890 and 1896, fueled by the arrival of the Southern Pacific and Santa Fe railroads that had connected it to the rest of the country, and the promise of new economic opportunities.
Michael's seventh birthday arrived on November 11th while they were touring Los Angeles. The family had planned a special day for him, intending to visit the scenic beaches and perhaps take a horse-drawn carriage ride through the growing city.
While they were travelling along a dusty road in the carriage, Michael suddenly exclaimed, "STOP!"
The carriage lurched to a halt, and Michael pointed with unwavering certainty towards the vast, open landscape stretching before them.
Mary, her gaze sweeping across the parched earth, her brow furrowed with gentle inquiry, asked, "What are you pointing at, dear?"
George, equally perplexed by his son's abrupt command, leaned forward. "What is it you see, son?" Elizabeth observed Michael with a keen blend of curiosity and burgeoning anticipation, her mind recalling his uncanny pronouncements regarding the volatile dance of the stock market. John, his thoughts already racing through the possibilities, surveyed the terrain, noting the subtle contours of the land, attempting to decipher what had so captivated Michael's attention.
"Oil," Michael declared, his voice ringing with a simple conviction.
"Oil?" John repeated, his mind already considering the implications.
"Yeah," Michael said simply, looking up at his uncle and father with an innocent gaze. "I just looked at the land, and the word 'oil' came to mind."
Mary exchanged a knowing look with Elizabeth and George. They had come to trust Michael's peculiar gift, though its application to something other than the stock market was a new concept.
"Well," John said slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face, "California does have existing oil fields. It might be worth looking into."
George nodded. "It's certainly a large area he pointed to."
They continued their planned tour, but the rest of the day was punctuated by quiet contemplation and whispered conversations about the possibilities. That evening, back in their rented lodgings, they gathered around a map of the Los Angeles area.
"Alright, Michael," John said, spreading the map on the table. "You pointed to a large area. Can you be a little more specific? If we were thinking of looking at some of this land, are there any particular spots that stand out to you?"
Michael, now fully awake and intrigued by the discussion, leaned over the map. He traced a small finger over a section southwest of the city, near the Los Angeles Basin. After a moment, he pointed to a few specific locations. "That spot... and that one over there... and that area."
John and George immediately noted the marked locations. "Are you suggesting we buy those parcels of land, Michael?" John asked, a smile playing on his lips.
Michael grinned. "Yep! They feel like the winners."
The adults laughed at that.
Over the next few weeks, while still enjoying their California vacation, John, with the help of George who made several discreet trips, began quietly purchasing parcels of land in the areas Michael had indicated. They focused on acquiring around 2500 acres in total, ensuring each purchase was made through different proxies and without attracting undue attention, especially from established land speculators. Given the location on the outskirts and their desire for a large tract, they were able to secure the land for an average price of under $100 per acre, bringing their total investment to roughly $200,000.
Next, they needed the means to extract any potential oil. After some diligent searching, John and George identified a small oil drilling company based in the struggling town of Santa Paula, not too far from Los Angeles, that was on the brink of bankruptcy. For a mere $15,000, they acquired the company, complete with its aging but functional drilling equipment and a small crew of experienced, albeit disheartened, personnel.
While still in Los Angeles, the Kingston family also celebrated Christmas in a unique setting far from their Upper West Side home. They found a local church for the Christmas service, the unfamiliar faces adding a touch of novelty to the traditional hymns. They exchanged small gifts in their rented lodgings, the Pacific breeze a stark contrast to the usual snowy air they were accustomed to on Christmas morning. John even managed to find a small, local pine tree to decorate, its scent mingling with the salty air. However, amidst the festive cheer, their minds were often occupied with their burgeoning plan, the quiet excitement of their potential venture adding an extra layer to the holiday spirit.
John, having worked briefly in the oil fields of Pennsylvania in his younger years to make ends meet, possessed a basic understanding of the drilling process. It was decided that John and Mary would stay in Los Angeles with Michael to oversee the initial drilling operations. Michael, of course, insisted on staying, his curiosity about this new venture as strong as his previous interest in the stock market. George and Elizabeth, while equally invested in this new endeavor, returned to New York to manage their now substantial stock portfolio, relying on Michael's continued predictions relayed via telegraph. While the telephone was becoming more prevalent, transcontinental calls were still unreliable and expensive in 1896.
The drilling commenced on one of the plots Michael had indicated. The work was arduous and slow, the old equipment often temperamental. Days turned into weeks, and weeks stretched into over a month. John, with Mary's unwavering support and Michael constantly asking questions about the machinery and the process, patiently oversaw the operation.
"Uncle John, why does that big thing go up and down like that?" Michael would ask, pointing to the derrick.
"That's the drill, Michael," John would explain, wiping sweat from his brow. "It's digging down deep into the ground, trying to find the oil."
"How will we know when we find it?"
"We'll know, Michael. There will be a big gush, a dark, sticky liquid that smells a little like… well, like nothing else really. You'll know."
Sometimes, Michael would simply sit and observe the workers, his brow furrowed in thought. "They look tired, Uncle John."
"It's hard work, Michael. But it's important work."
Back in New York, George would send regular telegrams, inquiring about the progress. John's replies were often terse, detailing the slow pace of drilling and the lack of any significant findings yet. There were moments of doubt, whispers of "What if Michael was wrong this time?" But John held onto the boy's unwavering certainty.
Then, one cool morning in February 1897, as the sun began to paint the sky with hues of orange and pink, a shout went up from the drilling crew. A dark, viscous liquid had begun to bubble to the surface. The air filled with a distinct, pungent smell.
John rushed to the wellhead, his heart pounding. It was oil. Black gold, flowing from the earth. Michael had struck again, not on Wall Street, but in the dusty outskirts of a burgeoning Californian city.